Take the Risk
by Journey's Beginning
Summary: Bucky and his lover, Aria, have a steady friends-with-benefits relationship, but the ex-soldier wishes to further it while Aria isn't too keen on the idea. When she texts him to pick her up at a bar, he decides to ask her to be his, one more time. One-shot. (Bucky/OC)


_A/N: The original (reader-insert) can be found on my AO3, which is on my profile page. This fic is inspired and loosely based on t_ _he song "We Are Young" by FUN._

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A quiet riff on a xylophone wakes Bucky up, followed by the glow of a screen. He rubs his eye with the heel of his flesh palm, yawning, then makes a move to scoop up his cell phone from the nightstand on his left. Stark had insisted that he get one the moment they arrived to the Avengers compound and when Bucky refused, the man took the task in his own hands. Needless to say, he had gotten the ex-soldier a new, sleek phone in record time. And Bucky had dropped it in record time, cracking the screen less than five minutes after receiving it.

He squints at the cracked screen in the dark, wondering why it wouldn't turn on— he could've sworn it glowed for a moment when it rang. He feels around the screen and the edges of it, looking for something to press... _aha!_ His calloused fingers find a button at the top right and he pushes it down, perhaps a tad bit too roughly. Nevertheless, the phone comes to life.

1:22 am, the phone beams.

Bucky finds it hard to stare at the piercing glow of artificial light. He swipes across the screen and types in his passcode slowly, watching the phone unlock to reveal a single page of simple applications. The background is of a beautiful, clear day at the beach. He tries not to stare at the figure, waist high in the water, whose back is facing the camera. The woman's wearing a black bikini top, long auburn locks cascading down her back in waves. His lover, Aria.

He fixes his attention on the notification. There's a little red circle with the number one atop a green icon with a white text bubble. Who would message him so late at night when all the Avengers were back at the compound?

 _All except for one._

The back of his mind nags at him, reminding him of Aria. She had left after dinner, saying that she needed a little relaxation time with people who _weren't_ supers. His heart pounds a little faster as he gives it a tap.

From **my doll** : _Need you. Pick me up?_

There it is.

He's on his feet in a second, pulling on a pair of old jeans and a white t-shirt. _Aria, Aria, Aria,_ his mind is chanting, getting high off the thought of seeing her, even though they had been laying together in his bed less than five hours ago.

To **my doll** : _where are you?_

He's out the door of his apartment and heading to the elevator, his movements impatient but efficient. _Is she waiting for me?_ he can't help but think, chewing at his bottom lip. Bucky practically slams the lobby button the moment he gets into the elevator, then stabs the _CLOSE DOOR_ button until the metal door slides closed soundlessly. The descent from the 87th floor is far too slow for his liking. He pauses for a moment, thinks of how insane this all was— his lover sends him a cryptic message at one in the morning and he's racing off to find her in a heart beat.

But then the corners of his lips twitch up and he's thinking that, maybe, it isn't so crazy after all; for Aria, he'd do anything. Perhaps he was out to get hurt, but there was something so damn mesmerizing about her... it would hurt more to try and stay away.

They were purely lovers. Nothing more, so she had said. They worked and fought alongside each other as Avengers. Missions were accomplished actually _more_ efficiently when Bucky and Aria were sent in as a duo. It was all professional during the day. They were colleagues and _friends_ , after all; it would be awkward if they didn't act professional, given that neither of them had claimed stake over the other. And at first, that was alright with Bucky. He didn't mind that she would stay the night and disappear in the morning. He was trying to get himself used to the 21st century, after all; this relationship he had with her was nothing if not modern.

But after a couple of months together, he now wished she would stay for a little longer at night, so he could hold her. So when he woke up in the middle of the night, covered in a light sheen of sweat and breathing like he had run a marathon, she would be there to comfort him with her soft voice. Somehow, he _knew_ that she could rid him of the night terrors that struck frequently.

He wanted to take her out on dates, to see her get dolled up for him. He wanted to wrap his arm around her waist and pull her close when they were at Stark's famous parties and show off his girl. Sweet kisses and holding her hand in public. Telling men who were getting too close to back off. Go on romantic picnics where he would lay his head on her lap and forget his worries. Listen to her sing in the morning when she made breakfast. God, he wanted to be with her for _her_.

Bucky wants to claim her for his own, because the thought of another man being with her leaves him seeing red. It occurs to him that she may not feel the same way and it kills him. He can understand the liberation of being single, but he wonders if she can understand how lonely it was to be loved only in a physical way.

From **my doll** : _The Strobe._

He pulls out the phone from his back pocket and glances down, feeling his throat tighten when he realizes she's at a nightclub. In the back of his mind, where all things were reasonable, Bucky knew she wouldn't be with another man. Despite being only lovers, he recalls that Aria had mentioned she would only be with him. But he's not thinking reasonably and every worry and insecurity he had about their non-existent romance is rising to the surface quickly.

The elevator door opens and he's out of the elevator in a hurry. The Strobe wasn't too far from the compound. It was two blocks away and Bucky was more than capable of running there. He's out of the building in a minute and ten minutes later, he's strolling into the club.

Immediately, the smell of sweat, alcohol, and cigarettes hits him. It's stuffy and the atmosphere is sexual and needy. The gyrating bodies on the dance floor has him wondering what dancing really means now. Grinding on each other to music that was loud enough to deafen? He takes a breath, looks around for Aria. If not for her, he would never have stepped in The Strobe. Something about crowds makes him feel drained of energy and he tends to avoid them as much as possible.

Just as he's about to make his way onto the dance floor, assuming that she's dancing, Bucky sees her at the bar across the room. She's sipping at a colourful red-yellow gradient drink, sitting in a raised chair, her body turned to the man next to her. He feels his heart clench a fraction, but makes his way over.

Up close, she's even more gorgeous than he expected. He lets himself look over her for a moment, taking in the tight, dark red dress she has on. It looks painted on, showing off every curve, ending at mid thigh. She's paired it with black stilettos that make her long legs look even longer. Her make up is simple, but tasteful, lips sinfully red. Her long curls are tossed across her shoulder gracefully, even if it wasn't done with intention to look beautiful.

He's breathless.

The man next to her has sunglasses on, perhaps to make himself seem more appealing. He's leering at Aria, moving closer as he asks about a scar on her arm. His grin is less than charming.

Bucky makes his way over, casting a cold look on the man, clearly meaning _back off_ , before glancing down at Aria. She looks bored, as if merely entertaining the man by paying attention. His stomach gives a little flip when she smiles up at him warmly.

"Hi, baby." She leans in and kisses him on the lips clumsily.

It takes Bucky a moment to respond, surprised by the sudden affection, but when he does, it's all teeth and tongues. He can taste the sweetness of the drink on her mouth, feel her lips moving against his desperately, as if she's drinking him in. He feels her sigh into the kiss and can't help but smile; the sound already has his mind wandering. He hears a shuffle and his ego inflates a little when he realizes that the man had left.

 _Mine_ , the voice in his head growls possessively. He pushes the voice to the very back of his mind.

She draws away with a giggle, biting her bottom lip. The red on her lips is smudged. "You're wearing my lipstick," she laughs lightly, reaching out to brush his bottom lip with her thumb.

His smile fades a little, a hint of worry colouring his features now that he realizes she's drunk. Of course she would never kiss him in public like that... He circles her wrist with his thumb and forefinger, pulling her hand away gently. "Doll, how much have you had?"

"Not much." He wonders how he could have missed her state before. The kiss had gotten the best of him, probably— she always managed to distract him in someway. Now that he's had a proper look, he sees that she's practically swaying in her seat, her cheeks flushed a light pink. Her words are coming out a little slurred, her eyes shining brightly.

"I thought you said you were going out with friends?" He's more than a little worried now. Aria wasn't a lightweight, never has been. She rarely got drunk, whether at the compound or outside of it, and this is the first time he's seen her like this.

She reaches over to her drink and plucks the pineapple slice from the edge of it, taking a bite. "Bathroom," she mumbles, then makes a vague smoking gesture with a smirk. "Getting high." She offers Bucky the other half of the slice.

He takes it between his teeth and chews. It's syrupy sweet, much too sweet for his taste. "C'mon, kitten, why don't we go home, then? Doesn't this place close soon, anyway?" he adds, remembering the bouncer's warning when he entered. "At two?"

She nods slowly, looking as if she's having trouble thinking.

"It's settled, then. Let's go." He lifts her, placing her onto the ground. She shakes in her heels, unable to walk, holding onto his shoulders for support. The corners of Bucky's lips twitch and he sweeps her into his arms in a bridal style. It feels right to have her in his arms. "Ready, dollface?"

She laughs delightedly and his heart swells. "Yes sir, Sergeant."

The ex-soldier walks out of the nightclub, sighing contently when the crisp night air washes over them. The sky is a dark, velvety navy blue, though the stars are hidden by city lights. He doesn't mind; there would be no wishing on a star tonight.

Aria buries her face in his shirt, breathing him in, and he drops a kiss to the top of her head as he begins to head home slowly.

"I love you, Bucky."

His heart skips a beat. He freezes for a moment, glancing down at her. Her eyes are half closed and she looks like she's on the brink of sleep, exhausted from the night's activities.

"I... love you, too, doll," he says, ever so softly, because he's suddenly afraid he's dreaming. Perhaps if he speaks too loud, the dream will fade away to the darkness of the night. Perhaps this thought was implanted by HYDRA, only to have it be ripped away later.

She's asleep now, her hands clinging to his white shirt as she rests her head on his shoulder. She's murmuring something softly and, when he hears his name amongst the unintelligible words spoken, he realizes he isn't dreaming, that this wasn't one of HYDRA's experiments.

 _Aria's drunk_ , he reasons, as he continues on his path to the compound. _She doesn't know what she's saying_. But even drunken words held a spark of truth behind them, right?

Bucky reaches the compound much slower than usual. He heads into the elevator, but hesitates for a moment when it comes to pressing buttons. Should he take her back to her own room or his?

He bites his bottom lip, then chooses his own room. His dark eyes dip to glance at her, left hand brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes tenderly. Holding her so close to his heart made him feel complete in a way he hadn't felt before and he's tempted to stop the elevator, just so he can hold her like this for a little longer.

The elevator door opens and he walks to his apartment, then back to his room. Bucky grabs one of his navy blue t-shirts and places her on the bed. With some struggle, he undresses her and puts the t-shirt on for her, before removing her shoes and tucking her into bed carefully. He sheds his jeans and slides in next to her, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her against his chest.

He buries his face in her hair and breathes her in, feeling a sort of calmness settle over. God, how long had it been since he's felt this at home? He can't remember the last time he's felt this happy or safe. Slowly, he drifts off to sleep and damn, if it isn't the best night of sleep he's had in _ages_.

That is, until he feels a movement and is awakened nearly four hours later. Bucky opens an eye drowsily, frowning when he sees Aria stand up. Her silhouette is outlined by the moonlight, just enough for him to make out her features. He takes her hand gently, feeling her rough skin against his own. "Wait."

She looks down at him, surprised, and he's graced with the sight of her with bed head and the edge of his t-shirt hitched at her waist, revealing her thigh. "Sorry, did I wake you?"

He wonders if she's whispering because of the pain of a hangover, but doesn't hesitate to whisper back. "No," he lied, hoping she wouldn't leave. "Come back to bed, doll. Please."

She looks torn, but climbs back into bed, though she doesn't pull on the covers. It irks him to see a separation between them. It seems like a temporary stay. "Bucky, I should go..."

"Why?" Their whispers sound intimate in the dim lighting. His flesh hand finds her hipbone. He draws circles on her skin with his thumb, wishing she'd move a little closer to him.

"You know why." Her gaze is averted from his. She ducks her head, long strands of hair hiding her eyes.

"Kitten, you never told me why." He hears the hurt in his voice and frowns, cursing at himself for making it come out so emotional. It was true, though. She had never stated why she wanted a detached relationship and he had never questioned. When he had first seen her, Bucky knew he'd better stay away, because the way she had attracted him was something akin to a gravitational pull. Soon he realized she wasn't a gravitational pull. She was a drug. It was too late now, though; he was addicted and desperate for more, in any way he could have it.

"We're lovers. Not..." She takes a shuddering breath, finally looking up at him. Her voice trembles just the slightest when she speaks again. He's never heard her sound nervous before. "N-not.. whatever this is."

"You told me you loved me last night," Bucky says, his voice barely audible. He needs her to stay tonight. He needs to know if she feels the same way, because he's been overthinking it for far too long now. "I know you meant it, dollface."

She freezes, her eyes widening, like a deer caught in headlights. Even when she's unsure, there's something in her eyes that give her away. It's as if she's already made up her mind before the question has been asked. "I did?"

"Yes. And I told you that I love you, too. I need to know if you meant it," he adds gently, watching her. His hand has stopped moving on her hipbone, resting on the smooth skin instead.

She looks away, her lips pursed. She doesn't respond, staring at the sheets instead. Her eyes, if one took time to look, often spoke more than her mouth did. And at the moment, they were blank, which scared him more than anything.

Bucky can barely stand the silence. His mouth is dry and he struggles to swallow. His tongue darts out to wet his lips. "Aria?"

"I... I do love you." She glances up at him, then lets out a breath, as if she had finally let go of a burden. "I'm afraid to get hurt. I'm afraid to hurt you."

"Wh-what?" he splutters, baffled.

Her eyes dart up to his, surprise written across her features. He's never made such a sound before in her presence. Her gaze searches his for a moment, wonder dancing within them, then she exhales slowly.

"I wanted to stay friends because I didn't want to care so much about you. I didn't want to get hurt if... when... you left me." A small, fragile smile meets her lips. "You're incredible. In every way. In this way, I thought I would just cut my losses when you found someone else."

He's speechless, so he simply stares at her instead. His heart is pounding a vicious rhythm in his chest and he's barely making sense of what she's saying. He had never known her to be so insecure. With deadly good looks and a tongue sharper than a knife, Aria's not one to show herself to be vulnerable. In fact, she had a bit of a running gag going on with the Avengers, pretending to have an ego as large as Stark's. Yet here she was confessing...

"And... I didn't want to hurt you. I didn't want to disappoint you by showing you that I'm not the perfect girl. I know I have a temper and a wicked tongue. I have a terrible taste in jokes and I'm not kind or brave or merciful." Her smile has turned wry. "I know you love me —I've seen the way you look at me, it's the sweetest thing in the world— and, God, I... I love you too, but... I'm not who you think I am. I'm not as perfect or... as special as you think I am, Buck. I wish I was, but I'm not. If you found a girl who was all those things and made you happy, I would have let you go.

"I don't want to see you hurt physically, either. I have enemies and I know you're aware of that, but it goes much deeper than you think; they're more than willing to kidnap, torture, and kill the ones I love and being here is more than a danger. The risk is so... real. And, damn, I'd be lying if I said it didn't scare me... Being with you just increases the risks."

"I don't care." He's stubborn. He knows she's everything she thinks she isn't. She is all that he needs and she can't see it herself. He wonders how long she's been thinking about this. Since their first night together?

Bucky gazes into her eyes, unable to look away from this new side of her. She looks weary and burdened by the odds stacked against them being together. Each flaw and insecurity is laid out before him, though he has a feeling it's merely the tip of the iceberg. He takes her hand with his flesh one, presses his lips to her palm. He can feel the callouses from the familiarity of wielding knives and guns. "Nothing has changed from day one to now. We always take risks when we find someone new to love."

She nods slowly. "I know. I just don't want to take the risk with you. The world has broken you; all I want to do is build you up and leave while you're still perfect. I'm afraid that if I stay, you'll fall apart again..."

"If you left, I would fall apart again for sure. I'm willing to make a bet on you, doll." He moves her hand to rest over his heart. It's still beating at a rapid pace. "Can you feel it?"

"Yes," Aria sighs, closes her eyes briefly. They open and focus on him for a moment, then a small smile curves her lips. "Well... where do we go from here?"

He leans in and kisses her softly, unable to resist. It's slow and passionate and gentle, one where he can take his time to memorize the feel of her soft lips against his own. He pulls away, breathless. She always had that effect on him. "Take a risk on me. Stay until dawn."

Her smile widens as she slides beneath the covers. Her lips are on his collarbone, brushing butterfly kisses as he pulls her close. He feels her rest the palm of her hand over his heart. "Gambling isn't my style. I play for keeps."


End file.
